


Pierce the Veil

by NixieBeck (BlackWingsofLucifer)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sex, Smut, sister winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 06:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11503788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackWingsofLucifer/pseuds/NixieBeck
Summary: A dangerous case, an eloquent party and some pleasant company. Much to your brothers’ annoyance they needed the King of Hell on this hunt, and they knew exactly how to get him to agree.





	Pierce the Veil

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an Edgar Allan Poe short story: The Masque of the Red Death. Feedback always welcome!  
> Posted to tumblr also: ShadowfaxImpala

Black eyes, lithe figures adorned in darkly clad suits - their presence intimidating and yet electrifying to the heightened senses of a huntress, they watched and waited, pale skin intensified by the glowing candles that surrounded the room intoxicated by matte black drapery and furniture. Eyeing the surroundings you breathed it in, the smell of death hung limp in the air, the scent of sulphur and torture evident like a burning incense in a room without windows or doors, choking you with its aura. 

Cuffs burned at your skin, their tightness restricting you very movements. Gazes were draped upon you, with every slow yet still proud step you took closer to the throne you could feel the drum of excitement in the air, the anticipation building, waiting for one to strike out at you… but that moment never came to pass.   
You were thrust with strong arms to the floor, your knees collided with the stone tiles. Your face hung low and menacing until you slowly craned your neck up, your chin now held high as a sign of defiance.   
  
“If you could be a little more careful with my cargo that would be appreciated.” A gruff English voice cut through the courtroom, the decadence in his voice laced with the harsh sting of whiskey and cigarettes worn out through the years.   
  
“F/N Winchester, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Crowley addressed you formally, the usual glint of mischief evident in his eyes.   
  
“Bite me.” You retorted. His jaw jutted to the side, shoulders bouncing as a smirk appeared in his face.   
  
“Gladly my dear, but the biting can wait. Why are you snooping around my front porch?” You flashed a sadistic smile at the king before you as you eyed every minute detail of his form, firstly his features, aged but still handsome. His crisp suit of purest black, the red tie pressed and folded so neatly that you swore it could cut. Shoes polished to perfection. You eyes draped over every inch of him, his eyes narrowed at you his head tilting off to the side, calculating your apparent change in demeanour, the burst of newly formed character raging on the surface. Never had you regarded him with such obvious lack of shame.   
  
“I’m here to make a deal, of course.” You certainly peaked his interest. His head twisted slowly to the side, curiously.   
  
“Bad reception upstairs?” He jested, “and that warrants a trip to hell? You Winchesters elude me, always so dramatic.” Your bared your teeth into the resemblance of a primate grin.   
  
“Oh the reception is just fine, but I’m sure you will appreciate that some things are better handled in person.” He soon got the hint, he waved his hand remaining bored on the exterior. His minions soon departed, bowing their heads.   
  
Alone at last he stood, his footsteps approaching you with a dangerous slow. He took a knee next to you, touching the cuffs that constrained you, they fell to the floor with a clash as metal met stone. He stood carefully, you grasped your now freed wrists and gave them a gentle massage.   
  
“I confess, I think I prefer you in cuffs.” He cut in as he circled you. “Now what is it you’re after?” Straight to business, you relaxed slightly, still feeling the burn of his eyes upon you as he remained behind you. Peering over your shoulder your voice dropped to a husky whisper.   
  
“It’s more of a favour really, considering you owe me for persuading Dean to set you free from the bunker and you repaid me by turning him into a punk ass demon. We’re on a case but it requires a little more… magical flare. We’re hunting something called Mors Rubrum, gruesome little bitch that likes to hang out in extravagant bureaucratic settings, except it’s a monsters only club, none of us can get in without being ripped to shreds.” You eyed his expression out of the corner of your eyes, his body shifted awkwardly.   
  
“You want me to help you hunt it or help you get access?” He seemed surprise that you were asking such a heavy thing with such disregard to his position.   
  
“Both.” You replied, still watching his every move. Pacing for what seemed like eternity he finally stopped, turned on his heel abruptly and gave you a harsh and resounding “No.”  
  
You rolled your eyes in retort. You could see him stick his tongue into his cheek out of annoyance.   
  
“I’m sorry did I not make myself clear? You will help us or I’ll-”  
  
“Kill me, yeah yeah, I’ve heard it all before, you bloody Winchesters are a broken record. You come marching into my Kingdom demanding a private audience and then have the gall to ask for a favour, sorry darling but it doesn’t work that way. I want something in return.” With each word he circled, like a vulture. You didn’t sway to his building aggression.   
  
“And what might that be?” You enquired, inspecting your fingernails with bored frustration for signs of dirt.   
  
“I’ll let you worry about that for now. I don’t want your soul if that’s what you think, I don’t want any more damaged goods.” You frowned at his obvious lie, but you played along.   
  
“Fine.” You agreed, a thrill of adrenaline coursing through you. Your brothers had not so fondly addressed the idea to you, knowing the King of hell had a sweet spot for you, they knew they could work it to their advantage this one time, but still not liking the idea. Right now you were all out of options, little did they know, despite everything you had succumb to Crowley’s charm some time ago. His suave personality, his sass and wit had won you over, you masked your harbouring with a nonchalant facade of hatred for appearances sake.   
  
“So we have a deal?” His eyebrow raised, the curve of his lips tugged up into a one sided smile. Those hazel eyes bored into your soul, beckoning you, tugging you to yield. You buried that blossoming desire, your mind clouded as judgement clung on by a thinning wire, ends fraying with every passing second. As your brain mulled over the possibility of ‘sealing’ the deal you simply nodded, that stoic disguise you wore returning you to your senses.   
  
He took a step closer, your resolve weakening once more. Another step, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. He noticed, of course. His eyes falling to your neck then to your plum lips.   
  
He stood, so close you could feel heat radiating off his figure. Looking up through your lashes your face was now betraying you. You felt vulnerable and exhilarated, weak but yet empowered, the oxymoron of emotions violently raged within. Images violently flashed through your mind, desire boiling like a chemical reaction, swirling and dizzying your already tainted thoughts. Naturally your eyes fell to his slightly parted mouth, you didn’t notice the way your body leaned forward, the hunger you felt was overpowering you.   
  
Seconds felt like hours, your heart beating with ferocity like a tide being pulled to the moon you leaned closer and closer…   
  
Heavy black doors swung open, crashing against the walls as two demons scurried through them,  each holding a piece of parchment, brows laden heavy with sweat from over exertion.   
  
“Sire, we have Ill news-“ Crowley raised a hand, stopping them dead in their tracks, all movement in the room ceased.   
  
“Don’t. Have you idiots learned nothing?!” His voice boomed off the walls of hell, instantly their expressions turned to panic. “When those doors are closed, don’t you dare come barging in!” He growled, his face twisting in anger. He had been so close… so dangerously close to conquering a crusade he had ventured after for so long, it had been ruined in an instant, shattered and most likely burned by two idiots who couldn’t follow orders.   
  
In a cloud of black smoke one of the invaders of his privacy had been turned to ash. The other standing in horror, so afraid to move that he slowly backed away, closing the doors as he left his body facing forward throughout the whole awkward escape.   
  
Crowley muttered expletives under his breath, he heaved a heavy sigh before grabbing you by the arm with an aggressive swipe. The world folded beneath you, everything collapsing and whirling in a dark cloud of deep red. Before you could adjust you were greeted with a familiar sight.   
  
Light illuminated the bunker in all its glory, the large oak table laid out in front of you, two large burly plaid clad frames perched on chairs, their faces looking smug, arms folded.   
  
“Told you it would work.” Dean grinned at Sam, his brother gave a smile but still looked uncomfortable in current presence. You could sense there was an inside joke going on, but you chose not to divulge. Crowley’s hand released you with a surprising gentleness, his fingers lightly brushing your skin, leaving a soft tingle in its wake.   
  
“Listen up asshat, you put my sister in danger I’ll torture you and stuff you back in the basement.” Dean pushed the chair back unceremoniously, the chair groaning in protest as his weight left it, the drag of oak feet against the wooden flooring ringing in your ears.   
  
“Sounds delightful, In that case I’ll make sure I bring her back in a few pieces.” His playful wit didn’t seem to go down too well with your overprotective brother.   
  
“I’m not joking. You’re the last person I wanted to call, but this gig is monsters only, so that means you.” The eldest Winchester gave him a glare that could kill on the spot, but the demon rose to the challenge, choosing to push Dean’s buttons with a playful wink.   
  
“Flattering, almost sounds like you’re a fan. Don’t worry Squirrel I won’t let any harm come to this wonderful creature…” he draped a hand over your shoulder, dragging you close to him. You scoffed at his gesture. He was back to his usual cocky self. Any other location away from prying eyes and you might have shoved him against the nearest wall and had your way…  
  
“Call me a creature again and I’ll stuff you back in the dungeon myself.” You pulled away from him, walking over the kitchen to pour yourself a drink, and to hide the radiant glow of redness emanating from your cheeks.   
  
The three of them could be heard discussing details of the case, Crowley had the wonderful idea of disguising your human essence with demonic ‘glamour’. The boys reluctantly agreed to entertain the notion.   
  
“One problem,” you sighed, plonking yourself down on a chair, a glass of neat rum to hand. “I don’t have anything to suit the dress code.” You groaned at the thought, you did toy exactly dress in plaid cloth or baggy jeans, but your attire wasn’t exactly demonic or anything worthy of ‘classy’ that screamed designer label.   
  
Crowley clicked his fingers, “taken care of, you should go and get changed…” you eyed him wearily for a second, dreading what horrendous piece of clothing was lying in waiting on your bed but you reluctantly nodded, pardoning yourself from the room and sauntering down the hall to get changed.   
  
A black gift box sat in the middle of your bed, tied neatly with a blood red ribbon. You let out a laugh at the effort, it was certainly a ten for thoughtfulness and taste. Your fingers clasped the top of the box, removing it to reveal black tissue paper neatly hiding away your attire for the evening. Peeling away the layers of paper you gripped the fabric underneath, it felt expensive, thousands of dollars worth of expensive.   
  
You pulled the dress from the box with more caution that you were used to. You eyed the design, it looked jaw dropping, the waistline tapered in to flatter your figure, while the hem flowed to the knee, two pieces of translucent black fabric softly flowing to the floor on either side, the neckline plummeted into a V shape, however it wasn’t revealing in any way, you wondered how much thought Crowley had put into picking out this design for you, given that he was a tailor in his former life you figured he had expertly picked it out in a non-existent heart beat. 

The arms were laced with intricate patterns, loose and flowing for movement should something happen. You began work on your makeup first. Not wanting to spill anything on such a beautiful item of clothing. Being a hunter you had never had the luxury of owning such a garment, you smiled softly at the thought of being able to don such a wonderful dress, however being surrounded by monsters brought the reality back to the assumption that it wouldn’t remain so pristine.   
  
You took great care to make yourself look presentable, you slipped into the dress perfectly, it fit like a glove. A snap sounded behind you and another box fell from the void of nothingness onto your bed. Shoes.   
  
Again, another expensive item to add to your wardrobe, chunky black heels that matched perfectly with the dress. A blood red gem adorned the front. Another pop and another package found its way to your dresser this time, you giggled excitedly and opened it. Inside was a gorgeous set of red earrings, a matching necklace and bracelet, just when you thought you had finally dressed to impress you found a hidden layer under the tissue paper, inside was a Venetian laced mask and a tiara, a label attached to the later with calligraphy inscribed onto the card.  _‘Fit for a Queen’_. You were thankful for the extra layers of foundation, your face heated up instantly like a roaring furnace.   
  
You gave yourself a once over in your floor length mirror, staring back was someone you barely recognised. You had never really felt beautiful, often you would go days without wearing any makeup and dressing in a t-shirt and a leather jacket, but tonight you looked stunning. You radiated confidence as you bounded out of your room, down the corridor and into the bunker’s main room. You brothers turned to greet you, their jaws dropped.   
  
“Holy crap, what did you do with Y/N, you under there?” Dean joked. You playfully punched his arm. “Seriously though Crowley, a little much don’t you think?” You brother shot the demon a warning look.   
  
“You wanted her to look the part, if it were up to you you’d send F/N in a flannel shirt. You look wickedly divine my dear.” Crowley turned his attention to you, his face softened as he looked upon you, taking in your figure in all its glory. Sam cleared his threat awkwardly, your brothers gave you a hug and bid you farewell.   
  
“Hey beauty and the beast, bring her back by midnight.” Dean’s tone was thoroughly warning, the worry in his voice evident.   
  
“I’ll bring her back at 11:59, safe and sound.” The king gave you a wicked grin once more, tucking his arm into yours and clicking his fingers.   
  
That familiar drop in your stomach lurched as the world fell away to be replaced with the scenery that resembled a fairy tale, lush green pastures surrounded a very carefully thought out driveway, a mansion sat atop of a small hill, its lights glaring in contrast to the jet black skies above. You took in the surrounding area, surveying for signs of danger. You felt slightly on edge, Crowley’s arm was still interlocked with your own.   
  
“I won’t let anything happen. We find this creature, we kill him and we get the hell out. I’ll do all the talking, you just focus on finding the damn thing.” You absentmindedly shuffled closer to Crowley as you both walked up the driveway.   
  
“I almost forgot,” you said softly, fixing the lace mask to your face. “There’s a lot of things here that might recognise me,” you gave a nervous laugh, struggling with the strap.   
  
“Here,” the king offered, turning you to face him as he adjusted the mask to fit your face, he clicked his fingers again, a cold shiver ran over you, you weren’t sure if it was from his spell or the fact that he was so intimately close to you. “Glamour, so nobody asks any questions or sniffs the human on you,” his eyes held so much hidden emotion in them that you could easily lose yourself.  You coughed nervously, moving back from him muttering a small ‘thank you’, before you both proceeded up the driveway to the house.   
  
You both wondered inside the lavish mansion, marvelling at the architecture as well as the gruesome guests that plagued the palace-like house.   
  
You both spent what felt like a dragged out eternity looking for the Mors Rubrum monster, but to no avail. Your current partner in crime smiling at guests and with dangerous formality, addressing those who spoke to him. A few high up demons were dotted around, all exchanging stories and sipping what you hoped was red wine.   
  
‘No sign of the bastard,” Crowley grunted, he guided you into the ballroom where your stomach turned, monsters dancing together, fraternising and generally playing out their plague of an existence.   
  
A soft classical hum thrummed through the hall, most of the guests dissipated from the dance floor to go and get a drink, their distaste towards the current musical choice evident. You were escorted to the dance floor, where Crowley unexpected snaked a hand around your waist, his fingers laced with yours, he brought your arm up, your eyes enlarged as you looked from your hand to his face.   
  
“Crowley I don’t dance, what are you doing?” You almost hissed.  
  
“Lucky for you I do, just play along.” His pace started off slow as you both walked across the floor, surprisingly you kept up with him, your steps seemed to flow perfectly in rhythm with the music as you both spun, eyes were cast in the direction of the king of hell, they licked their lips disgustingly as they regarded you, their thoughts obvious by the way their features twisted.   
  
“You look stunning,” he whispered into your ear, “every creature here wants you, if only they knew who you were, they would run out of here like there was a hot iron rod up their arse,” you laughed, his hot breath tickled the nape of your neck. Your head began to swim, you felt as though you were lighter than air. Dizzy with the elegance of the demon before you, you leaned even closer to him, the music slowing to a halt. Your heart hammered in your chest, it was skipping painful beats entirely making it even more difficult to breathe.   
  
“Crowley I-“  
  
“Shall we get some air?” His voice seemed to have the same weight as yours, both of you removed yourself from the ballroom, finding a quiet sanctuary in a blackened room.   
  
“F/N… I’m sorry if I-“ you cut him off, you lips crashed against his fiercely, hungry and wanting you thrust your hands into his well tailored jacket, your fists balling the fabric beneath. He backed against the door, you could feel him fumbling around for the handle. The lock clicked signalling your piracy was secure. He groaned into your parted lips, one hand wrapping tightly around your waist to pull you flush against him, the other resting on your cheek, gliding through your hair to stop you pulling away from him. His tongue dove past your lips and into the open cavern of your mouth, exploring with such expert ferocity. His devilish fingers found the zip on the back of your dress, sensually sliding it down, leaving the drag of his skin on your now exposed back. You moaned softly in approval.   
  
He guided you back away from the wall, moving through the room your backside hit a soft fabric, your body plummeted downwards onto a mattress, seconds later Crowley was on you, his mouth leaving hot wet kisses along your jaw down to your collarbone. Your chest arched up, a hot breathy moan escaped you, a warm and feverish desire building in your lower abdomen.   
  
Crowley shifted above you, discarding his jacket and waistcoat with speed before he attacked your neck with more kisses, the stubble of his beard scratching at your skin. The way he touched you, the way he moaned onto your skin, he was intense yet so delicate, afraid to break you.   
  
Working his way back to your mouth you both kissed for what felt like forever, you could sense he was unsure on whether to go further, not wanting to overstep the mark with you. In any other circumstance you would laugh at how much of a gentleman he was being, you decided to give him an obvious guide of encouragement by grinding your hips up to meet his arousal that was painfully straining against his pants. His breath hitched as you slid yourself up against him.   
  
“You have no idea the power you hold over me,” he exhaled sharply. Meeting the roll of your hips with his own you let out a guttural moan, your head lolled back as you panted heavily. “If you want me to stop just say-“ he whispered. It was almost as if he were pleading that you end his torture, either to resume the platonic hunter and demon relationship or let him ravish you until the end of days.   
  
“Crowley I need you,” softly meeting his lips you cupped his pants with your palm, kneading him through the fabric.   
  
“Are you entirely sure you want this?” He hissed, trying not to buck his hips to the movement of your hand.   
  
“You won’t talk me out of this, it’s you who seems to have no idea what you do to me…” finally he gave in to your efforts, moving his bulge against the palm of your hand. You leaned up to whisper in his ear, everything be damned, you needed him inside of you. Your current hunger wasn’t being satisfied in the slightest. Barely above audible your voice rasped in a husky tone, “fuck me, my king”.  
  
A snarl escaped his lips, his movements were too quick for you to comprehend, the dress was lifted above your head with ease, your black laced panties gone in a flash. The piercing darkness gave the element of surprise as a hot wet swipe from the flat of his tongue dragged across your folds. The feeling was so intense you could see white hot flashes, the moan had caught dead in your throat, your only response of sheer approval was the arch of your back and the immediate parting of your legs. Your back hit the bed hard, you laced your fingers through his hair edging him to continue, he eagerly complied with another hot lick of his tongue flush against your clit, he repeated his ministrations over and over until you were wreathing like a mess beneath him, about to fall completely undone.   
  
“Not yet my love,” he growled, moving his head from between your thighs, tracing upwards with soft kisses until he reached your lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue. Lost in the kiss you felt a hard pressure lining up with the entrance of your sex. Like electricity everything in your body felt hot to the touch, pleasure rippled through you as the king of hell entered you, stretching you in such deliciously decadent ways. You couldn’t contain the moan any longer. Muttering expletives under your breath as he began to thrust slowly into you, your hips grinding against his, trying to elicit as much sensual enlightenment that he was supplying you matched his thrusts with your own, taking every single inch of him.  
  
His cock glided with ease into your dripping core, Crowley’s breath became heavier, his grunts of approval radiating in your ear as he began to fuck you with such ferocity you were seeing stars.

“Y/N” he groaned softly in your ear as his body moved with yours. Every encounter you had ever had up until this point was rendered pale in comparison, the feeling of Cowley inside you had you heading straight over the edge of oblivion, white spots appeared in your vision, cutting through the darkness as the glorious sensation in your lower abdomen became so intense. He hit that spot over and over again until it became too much pleasure to endure, waves of sheer satisfaction rumbled through your entire being, crashing over and over again as you came hard around the sensual demon above you. Sensing your undoing pulsate over his cock sent the exact same sensations flowing through him, Crowley spilled himself into you, filling you whilst riding out your orgasm. You could feel him twitch from within, he refused to move until his own bliss had ended.

Finally he rolled off you, plonking down next to you for a moment to catch his breath.

“That was…” You couldn’t find the words.

“Perfection,” Crowley muttered with his rich voice. You shuddered at the baritone in his voice.

“We should probably get back to the job…” You laughed nervously, shifting on the bed.

“Here,” you heard a click in the darkness and suddenly you felt the hot liquid dripping from your thighs dissipate, your body adorned in your dress once more. Crowley quickly found you in the dark, a shift in his demeanour was evident despite the blackened room, his presence felt… different, lighter somehow. His hands found your elbows as he held you.

He kissed the top of your forehead before guiding you through the room, opening the once locked door to peer outside, once the coast was clear you both slipped between the frame and back out into the fray of the party.

Hushed voices sounded, something was out of place, the music has ceased and the thrum of life within the guests had become a shrouded veil of haziness within the confining walls. They stared eerily into the distance.

In the middle of the room stood a gigantic figure, blood red velvet adorned his lank frame, his features sunken into a pale expression of grim silence. He pointed at one of the guests, they began to choke under his gaze. Moments later the guest plummeted to the floor, dead.

The creature turned it’s eery head to survey the area, a hand reached out from under the robe to grasp at the air before a dexterous finger pointed in your direction.

“Our guests of honour… Your majesties” It’s voice was so deep and dark it sent a shockwave of panic through you. “You dare enter my halls without invite?” It cast a glance at Crowley. The demon beside you shifted from one foot to another, his cheeks bunched into a defiant smile as his eyebrows rose and fell.

“Isn’t much of a party if someone doesn’t crash it now, is it?” Crowley addressed the ancient creature with defiance and distaste. His attitude clouded in the usual facade of arrogance.

He cast a glance at you out of the corner of his eye, you nodded at him before you began to chant in well versed latin. Crowley slipped the hex bag into your hands along with the knife he had kept concealed.

You continued to chant as the creature began to snarl at your words. “You impertinent animals!” he roared, you finished up the last verse with speedy precision, spilling the contents of the hex bag onto the floor a flash surrounded your feet. You sliced open your arm dowsing the blade in blood, the spell now complete.

“That won’t work on me demon child…” The creature taunted. You laughed, throwing the knife into the air. The world moved entirely in slow motion as it soared…

The blade hit its mark. A flicker of red flame appeared within that hollow face, escaping every orifice before the creature was consumed in a black shroud, crumbling away into nothingness, dust piled atop of the lavishly polished floor.

Guests gasped, all attention now averted from the creature to you, angry faces snarled.

“Human!” One voice shrieked.

“Hunter!” Another cried. Before the onslaught approached your attention was torn towards your present company.

“Kitten I think it’s time for us to leave…” Crowley placed a hand under your elbow pulling you into his body. The world fell away into darkness and then regained its fundamental structure once more as you stood in a familiar war room. Two concerned faces dropped their anxious expressions before turning into gleeful smiles of relief.

You looked at the clock. ‘12:12’

“What time do you call this?” Dean laughed nervously.

“Sorry she’s late boys, we had a little… distraction.” A smug grin of delight crossed Crowley’s face as he regarded you, something akin to adoration now nestled in his hazel eyes.

“Yeah yeah, at least she’s safe…” Dean pulled you into a hug which you reluctantly returned.

“Well if that’s all, I’ll be off.” Crowley looked at you for the longest moment, you knew exactly what he was thinking, your mind flashing back to the events of the night.

“Crowley…” You began. “Thank you, for saving me.”

“This true?” Dean looked between the two of you, sensing a shift in the atmosphere.

“Yeah, he saved my life…” Your feet found a mind of their own, Crowley’s magnetic pull guided you to him without any consideration for your brothers. Your arms laced around his torso as you pulled the demon into a hug. Crowley’s body stiffened under your embrace, his eyes darting between your brothers wearily. Their stares intensified, their faces washed away with confusion. Crowley placed a hand atop of your back, pushing you lightly into his frame.

“Any time Kitten,” he whispered low enough for you to hear.

He pulled back, before you could say or do anything he was gone. You sighed heavily.

“What the shit just happened?” Dean’s eyebrows furrowed down into a deep scowl.

“Seriously? He saves my life and you can’t even thank him?” You scoffed.

“He’s the freakin’ King of Hell, he doesn’t deserve a thank you let alone a hug, what did he plat your hair and make you a friendship bracelet or something? Dammit Y/N, he’s not our friend. He owed us one.”

You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore your brother entirely. You stormed past him to retreat to the sanctuary of your bed. Closing the door a little harshly on your way in you twisted your body, throwing your back onto your mattress, it sprung beneath you.

Your brain couldn’t erase those dark thoughts of desire, every fibre of your being ached, your chest felt heavy, your heart painfully skipping beats entirely. Your peripheral vision saw something out of place within the familiarity of your room.

A blood red rose sat atop of your nightstand, a note on aged parchment next to it. Excitedly you threw yourself over towards the piece of paper, picking up the rose and twirling it between your fingers you read the beautifully ascribed handwriting on the page as you unfolded it.

_‘My dearest Y/N,_

_What I felt this evening is beyond anything I have ever felt in my whole wretched existence. I have admired you from afar for quite some time now, you captivate me in ways I cannot express._

_Please know that this evening wasn’t one of my many devious plans, your display of passion took me off guard but please know it is greatly returned._

_Yours,_

_C.’_

You flipped open your phone, punching in the numbers 666 as you wrote out your response, before deleting everything and typing something else. You groaned in frustration as you reached for the words but they wouldn’t come. How could you respond so eloquently to his note?

Minutes passed without anything even close to a decent reply.

A chuckle alerted you that you weren’t alone.

“I don’t expect an extravagant reply… A simple thank you would suffice.” His arrogance would be the death of you.

You hopped onto your feet in a flash, your hips bounced as you motioned over to Crowley, his tongue slipped past his mouth as he licked his bottom lip watching you saunter towards him, his arms welcomed you as you pressed your body against his, your hands snaking around his neck.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Anything for you,” he hushed, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss.


End file.
